


Family Dinners

by FlorentineQuill



Category: Maleficent (Disney Movies)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Post-Canon, and they usually keep the idiot ball dropping to a minimum, canon is what I say it is, diaval is the badass ambassador we know and love, so aurora keeps her kingdoms, usually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:08:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22093084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlorentineQuill/pseuds/FlorentineQuill
Summary: King John gets the opportunity to speak with Maleficent minus his genocidal, warmongering wife. It goes much better.
Relationships: Aurora & Diaval & Maleficent (Disney), Aurora/Phillip (Disney), Diaval/Maleficent (Disney)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 349





	Family Dinners

**Author's Note:**

> Because I'm a sucker who just wants this family to get along. 
> 
> Maleficent discord: Is it a maleficent fic?  
> Me: Yeahhhhhh  
> Maleficent discord: Well hurry up and finish please because I need that beautiful content  
> Me: lmao sure just let me get past work, DnD, and Christmas gift making
> 
> Christmas, two colds, and a happy new year later. . .

King John of Ulstead smiled and nodded as he passed through the throngs of subjects, nobles, and Moorfolk. It had taken several hours of listening to wildly differing accounts from the soldiers, servants, and councilors but he had pieced together what occurred while he had been asleep. For now, everyone seemed content to mingle and admire the new greenery growing across the castle’s grounds.

While he wished to be known as a peaceful king, all kings were trained for war. He knew better than to try and sneak up on a trained fighter and so he did not make the attempt. He kept on smiling and nodding, all the while eeling closer to his targets. Maleficent made his task much easier in how she had placed herself against a nook of particularly verdant trees, with her companion, Diaval, standing next to her. It was a well-chosen spot, he had to admit. They were close enough to see the dancing floor and where the cooks were starting to set out buffet tables laden with feast foods. The occasional flash of white fur and glinting jewels amongst the crowds just so happened to also be visible from this particular vantage point.

He had almost been within hailing distance of the pair when one of his more obsequious nobles stepped into his path with a deep bow. Lord Fullerton was resplendent in a bright orange and turquoise velvet doublet. “Your Majesty! I am glad to see you looking so well.”

“Thank you, Lord Fullerton,” he replied. “I’m so glad you were able to travel from your lands for the wedding.” (Even if there had been rumors of increased taxation to accomplish the deed.)

Fulleron’s chest puffed out. “Of course, of course! As if I would miss such a momentous occasion! Ulstead and the Moors uniting!”

“Indeed,” King John replied. “There are many who would have thought it impossible but it speaks well for the future.”

“Naturally! I can hardly wait to see what treasures the Moors will yield,” Fullerton said, rubbing his hands together and looking far too eager.

King John frowned, hooking his hands on his belt. “That remains to be seen,” he said. “It took Queen Aurora five years to forge her kingdom together. We can hardly expect anything faster for Ulstead.”

Fullerton waved one hand. “I’m sure Phillip can bring Her Highness around in due time,” he said. He opened his mouth to continue and then stopped dead.

“I’m sure _Her Majesty_ is hardly at fault for the delay,” an accented voice said from behind John, placing a gentle emphasis on the correct honorific. “I can assure you both humans and fae can be quite stubborn.” 

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end but John turned to smile at Diaval. The man(?) kept his eyes focused on his fingernails— oddly thick and blacker then John remembered them being at dinner. “Of course, battles do have a way of slowing down treaty-makings.” He finally looked up and smiled at Fullerton.

It was not a nice smile. Or a safe one.

Fullerton stared at Diaval, years of political training and expertise forgotten. John bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing as Fullerton’s florid face drained of color until it nearly matched the flowers on the nearby trees. He stuttered out an apology as he bowed and took his leave, almost tripping over his cape as he retreated. John and Diaval watched him go before letting out twin sighs of relief.

“Thank you for that,” John said. “While I’d like to say that most of my nobles are better mannered, it would be an untruth.”

“It’s astonishing what people can get up to with enough free time,” Diaval said, eyes tracking the retreating lord for a moment longer. “I’m surprised he had the nerve to get so close.” He shook his head. “I’ve been sent to fetch you in any case.”

“I find it maddening to have fallen at the final hurdle, as it were, but if it saves me from one more conversation I will take the assistance and be grateful,” John said and allowed Diaval to steer him through the thinning crowds. While the other winged Moorfolk might have been given a berth sensible enough to accommodate their enormous wings, Maleficent enjoyed easily triple the space. John forced himself to meet her gaze as they approached, offering another cordial nod.

“You looked splendid, escorting Aurora down the aisle,” he said with a smile once he was close enough.

“…Thank you,” Maleficent replied after a moment. The words were overly enunciated and seemed awkward on her lips but John kept smiling.

Diaval took up what seemed to be his accustomed spot, standing next to Maleficent’s right shoulder. Her wings shifted without her apparent notice, arching to make room for him. “I always thought Aurora would make for a stunning bride,” Diaval said. “Phillip wasn’t looking too shabby himself. Must have been the shirt, it looked very dashing.” He tugged at his collar. “Very comfortable.”

Maleficent didn’t hesitate at all this time. “I distinctly remember,” she replied, arching an eyebrow, “having to go through a veritable wardrobe for you.” She flicked a hand. “That shirt was too tight, that one too lacy, it didn’t have nearly enough feathers—”

“Well it didn’t,” Diaval interjected. “And apparently this one doesn’t either, if random guards thought I was just a human. Had to climb over the walls to try and figure out what was going on!”

“Oh, is _that_ why you suddenly felt the need for talons of your own,” Maleficent said. “Were the feathers in your hair too subtle?”

Diaval huffed but said nothing. Looking closely, John _could_ see what looked like feathers curling through the man’s hair. “They are ah, rather hard to see,” he offered and found himself pinned in place by two sets of narrowed eyes. “In any case,” he continued, “everyone involved looked magnificent.”

A fraction of the tension in Maleficent’s posture eased. “Yes,” she said. Her eyes slid past him to look over the massive crowd. “I….did not think such a gathering would be possible,” she continued. “But Aurora never lost faith in humans.”

“Or the fae,” John replied. “A bridge can only be built if both sides are willing. I am ashamed that we were not so willing. Phillip wrote home enough over the past five years,” he said. He chose his next words with care. “My….wife often read the letters first. She could have twisted his words to her own ends far too easily.” He grimaced. “Many of her actions look ill upon reflection.”

Diaval shifted his weight, rocking back and forth on his heels in a slow, thoughtful motion. “You didn’t push for the annexation of the Midlands,” he said, sounding very certain. “Her Majesty did.”

“How on earth do you know that?” John asked. “The Midland-Moors border is a month away by horse. I can’t imagine that land would be of much interest to you.”

“A month away for humans perhaps. Barely a week for ravens or other fae,” Maleficent said absently. She tapped one long finger on the crystal topping her ever-present staff. “Diaval?”

“Phillip discussed the annexation with Aurora,” Diaval said, wrinkling his nose. “ Say what you will about the boy, he pays attention. He said some of the border lords asked for economic aid due to failed harvests and civil unrest. From there…Well, I can’t be entirely sure but incidents just kept happening.” He glanced at John but continued, “after a certain point Ulstead just seemed to keep….helping.” He spread his hands wide and shrugged. He did not look particularly innocent.

“Clever bird,” Maleficent said. “I knew I kept you around for a reason.”

“I do have my moments,” Diaval said. “I’m sure the fact that Queen Ingrith hailed from the Midlands was just a minor coincidence.”

“Did she now.”

“I had to keep myself entertained for the past two days somehow. People still talk, talk, talk, and never mind who might be listening.”

“Hmm. And they don’t look up nearly often enough, I wager.”

John had been quite forgotten but he didn’t dare interrupt. Whatever reservations Maleficent had around humans vanished when speaking with her companion. He rubbed a hand over his beard absently. “I owe you both an apology, I should think.”

Maleficent’s gaze snapped back to him. At the same time, her wings drew in tighter, crowding Diaval closer to her. “Oh?” There was an entire border’s worth of thorns in that single syllable.

“Yes,” John said. He met Maleficent’s eyes. “Far too many humans look at the Moors and underestimate its people. The past twenty-five years should have shown us the error of our ways but we clung to our prideful notions.”

Maleficent lifted one eyebrow. “And you think to undo all past harms with a single apology?”

“Of course not,” John replied. “To try and do so would only add further insult and injury.”

Maleficent’s wings relaxed. “Hmm.” She studied him anew, losing some the predatory edge to her gold-green eyes. “And here I thought you just another foolish, human, king.”

Diaval cleared his throat in a way that sounded suspiciously like the words, “Be nice.”

John’s lips twitched. “I can hardly deny your words,” he said. “But I want to do better in the future.”

Before she had a chance to reply, something caught Maleficent’s attention. The green in her eyes bled entirely over to gold and her wings shifted again, spreading wide. Diaval brightened as John turned to see Aurora and Phillip enter the bubble of space surrounding the three parents. John shifted to one side to make room for his son and daughter-in-law, smiling.

“I was starting to think you’d forgotten us,” Diaval said, holding out his hands. “Finally remembered to come to say hello to your parents?”

Aurora bypassed Diaval's outstretched hands, wrapping her arms around him with a laugh. “As if I could forget, silly bird,” she said. “I’ve been trying to come over for the last half hour but people kept talking at us.”

John held out his own hands to Phillip. While his son’s courtly manners were remarkably intact given his absence from the usual politicking, the day’s events were starting to tell. There were purple smudges under his eyes and scrapes on his knuckles. Phillip took his hands with a sigh of pure exhaustion, resting his forehead on his father’s shoulder. John chuckled and started to squeeze Phillip’s hands but stopped when Phillip let out a pained grunt. He turned Phillip’s hands over to see the damage. “What happened here?”

“Rope burns,” Phillip muttered. “Mother….was trying to stop me from interfering with her plans.”

“You should see a healer for these,” John said. Phillip’s palms had deep, painful looking weals that radiated heat. His son had taken the time to cover the wounds in salve but that was almost gone now.

“There are people with worse wounds than I,” Phillip said. “I have the salve in my rooms, I’ll be fine—”

“May I?” Maleficent interrupted Phillip mid-dissembling. Her staff dropped back against her shoulder as she held out her own hands.

To his credit, Phillip didn’t hesitate for more than a moment. He placed his hands in hers, palms up. Maleficent frowned in concentration and after a moment, golden tendrils slid over Phillip’s palms. John held his breath as Maleficent’s magic sank into his son’s skin. Phillip’s fingers twitched involuntarily but the rope burns were already fading, smoothing into unblemished flesh. The last few wisps of magic dissipated and Maleficent let out a satisfied hum, inspecting her handiwork before letting her hands drop.

Phillip flexed his hands, curling the fingers of first one hand and then the other. He smiled at Maleficent and bowed. “Thank you,” he said.

Maleficent inclined her head. “Of course. It’s the least I could do, to repay your efforts today.”

“Mother,” Aurora said, picking up her head from Diaval’s shoulder.

John inspected Phillip’s hands for himself, marveling at the skill so casually displayed. Most tales agreed that while the fae had magic, it was often narrow in scope, curses and all. Unlike the rest of her kind, Maleficent seemed to have no such limits. Up until five years ago, no one in the kingdoms could have imagined magic being used to help humans instead of harm. John swallowed and smiled at Maleficent. “I must add my thanks. Wounds fester too easily and a man needs his hands.”

“We can’t have that, now, can we?” Diaval murmured, the corner of his mouth ticking upwards.

One of Maleficent’s wings twitched, smacking Diaval in the shoulder. Aurora gently pushed the errant wing away from her face. “Mother,” she repeated with a smile.

Maleficent sighed. “I will turn the pair of you into mealy worms,” she said but the words lacked any bite.

Aurora pulled away from Diaval and took Maleficent’s hands in her own. “It’s my wedding day,” she said simply. “Consider it a wedding gift?” She stared up at her mother with earnest, happy eyes.

Maleficent’s eyes narrowed. “If you think a paltry healing is enough of a wedding gift for my daughter, you’re sorely mistaken. Who do you think I am, one of the pixies?” she replied with a sniff. She bent forward and pressed a gentle kiss to Aurora’s forehead. "I'll need a day or two to come up with something far more suitable."

Aurora beamed and tucked one of Maleficent’s hands in the crook of her elbow. “Heavens forbid,” she said. She considered the crowd and glanced at both of her parents. “Think you could be persuaded to accompany us to the banquet tables? With the pair of you on my arms, we might actually be able to eat in peace.”

Before Maleficent could reply, Diaval was cackling outright as he slid into place on Aurora’s other side. He turned his head towards John and Phillip. “Bet you a silver noble that we’ll drive everyone but the cooks away from the tables,” he said with good humor.

Phillip and John linked arms. “No bet,” John said, feeling bold. “Make it a gold crown at least.”

“Done!” Diaval said and turned back around. Parents and children stepped forward, forging a path through the milling, jubilant crowds.


End file.
